


Thank The Spirits

by callmecaramleh



Category: Avatar: The Last Airbender
Genre: Angst, Established Relationship, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-28
Updated: 2018-10-28
Packaged: 2019-08-08 19:10:22
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,445
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16435181
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/callmecaramleh/pseuds/callmecaramleh
Summary: After his battle with Azula, Zuko doesn’t wake up and Katara struggles to heal him. Sokka stays by his side, taking care of his heart.





	Thank The Spirits

When Sokka reached the Fire Nation capital, Zuko had already been out for two days.

Katara greeted them at the entrance to the palace. She tried to smile, but only managed to raise the very corners of her mouth. Her eyes remained blank, deep bags underneath them.

“Katara—“ Sokka began.

“I can’t help him.” Her voice was breaking, but she managed not to cry. Sokka felt like his mind had left his body, it limping up the stairs behind Katara without any help from him. His body felt heavy, yet his mind was floating above it in a fog.

Sokka had known, of course, that it was possible that people weren’t going to make it through the battle, but he had never imagined that he could lose Zuko. He had been prepared to die himself, a nonbender in a battle that was much too big for him, but never Zuko. Zuko was strong and impressive. He was capable. And yet he was dying.

Katara led him, Toph, Suki, and Aang through the palace, into what must have been royal chambers judging by the large bed and expensive red decor. From their she showed them into an adjoining bathroom where Zuko’s body lay immersed in a large tub. Sokka collapsed by his side, his one good leg no longer being enough to support the weight of his feelings. Zuko was unbelievably pale, blue veins and red burns standing out against his skin. Sokka reached into the water to hold his his pruney hand. It felt cold. He couldn’t remember a time when Zuko had felt that way.

Sokka bit his lip, trying to keep himself from crying as the wispy memory of Zuko’s skin, warm against his as they shared a sleeping bag, danced through his mind. He had first discovered the heat of Zuko’s skin on their way to the Boiling Rock. Normally when flying Appa’s body heat could help with the chill of the air, but on a metal ship the cool air had felt harsh on Sokka’s skin. Shivering, Sokka had tried to move closer to the flame that propelled the vessel, but Zuko had offered himself instead. It had been awkward, standing in the arms of the boy who had conspired against him so many times, but it was _warm_. As soon as they got back to camp, Sokka realized it had been a warmth that he didn’t want to live without again. Yet here he was, rubbing his thumb over cool skin.

“He... he saved me,” Katara choked out. Sokka had forgot she was there. “Azula sent lightning towards me but he... he jumped in front. He tried to redirect it but...” Aang had moved to rub circles into Katara’s back as she finally started to cry.

“We’ve dealt with lightning before, haven’t we?” Toph said quietly.

Katara took a moment to control her voice before explaining that she didn’t have any spirit water this time. She had managed to send word to Iroh, hoping he might be able to obtain some before returning to the Fire Nation, but she feared it would be too late.

Sokka tried to express his thanks. Katara had been working on healing Zuko for two days straight, working almost nonstop. When she would try to sleep she would drag Zuko’s body out of the tub, letting him dry out tucked into thick blankets, but even after all this time she hadn’t been able to get his eyes to open for more than a moment.

Sokka sat by Zuko for hours. He was there so long that everyone else eventually faded out of the room, except Katara who first worked on healing Sokka’s leg before going back to Zuko. The pain of his leg, he realized, had been nothing compared to the pain of seeing Zuko like this.

Being in the White Lotus camp seemed like ages ago. After Zuko had properly introduced Sokka to his uncle, Iroh nearly choking Sokka with the force of the hug he gave them, Sokka and Zuko had found a secluded place to pretend to sleep. Their nerves kept them up, murmuring fears and hopes into the dawn.

“Wherever I go, come with me,” Zuko had whispered over the skin on Sokka’s cheek. Sokka could feel his eyelashes brushing over his temple.

“You’ll be too big of a distraction for me tomorrow. Your hotness is too much for me,” Sokka had tried to joke. The truth was that he feared his own inability. He had screwed up during the eclipse, and was eerily certain that he’s screw up again during the comet. He had already managed to lose Aang. Sokka wouldn’t let Zuko get hurt on his account.

“...You think we should fight separately?” Zuko had asked. Sokka has shrugged, turning his head away from Zuko. It was true, but the word “separated” still stung for some reason.

“Sokka,” Zuko has said, realizing he wouldn’t be getting a verbal confirmation, “Just promise me that we’ll meet again.”

“Of course.”

When they had departed the next morning, Sokka had kissed him, telling Zuko that he missed him already. Zuko had waved, calling out “See you soon!” as he faded into the distance.

“Can he eat?” Sokka asked Katara. His voice came out hoarse, like he had forgotten how to use it.

“I’ve been giving him broth. He’s able to get some of it down.”

Sokka wasn’t sure when she had sent for it, but in a few minutes Suki came with the broth. She couldn’t look at Sokka, and he was glad. She didn’t need to see him breaking.

He held the bowl up to Zuko’s lips, trying to pry his mouth open slightly as he poured the liquid slowly into Zuko’s mouth. It dribbled down his chin, but a small bob of Zuko’s throat relieved Sokka that some of it had made it into his system.

When the sun was high in the sky, Katara declared it time for her to try to sleep. She tried to do most of her healing when her bending was strongest, and how she hoped that the sun would try to heal it’s kind as she took her rest, though Sokka suspected that the rest was minimal.

Sokka carried Zuko’s body to the bed and helped Katara pull the covers tight around him. He placed his hand on Zuko’s chest, feeling the weak beating of his heart, willing it to continue.

“I’ll take care of him Katara,” Sokka assured her, “Please, try to sleep.”

***

Sokka wasn’t sure how many days passed. He fell into a routine, clinging to Zuko’s hand, feeding him broth, helping carry him from the water at midday, drifting in and out of sleep while clinging to his side, cleaning their bodies and sheets when Zuko would piss himself.

One night, Zuko opened his eyes.

Sokka had jumped, the golden color awaking the hope that he could barely cling to. He squeezed tighter on Zuko’s hand, his heart clenching in his chest.

“Zuko, I’m here,” he pleaded, “Zuko, I love you. Zuko, don’t—“ But his eyelids had already closed off, leaving Sokka to wail. He wanted to shout at him, demanding that he come back, but he didn’t have the energy.

***

More than a week passed before Iroh returned. Sokka knew he should leave the room—knew that he should give Iroh some alone time with his beloved nephew—but he couldn’t bring himself to move. Iroh took Zuko’s other hand, weeping.

“It’s my fault, it’s my fault,” he was mumbling, “I have nothing left. It’s my fault _again_.”

Katara tried the spirit water on Zuko, but it made no difference. Zuko was too far gone, or didn’t have the strength of an avatar. Sokka knew that Zuko was lost to him already, but he kept feeding him broth, kept sleeping by his side, clinging to his heart beat. He couldn’t bring himself to let go.

***

It was late at night. Katara was still trying to heal Zuko’s lifeless body. Iroh was swaying, singing, his voice gravelly. The words didn’t reach Sokka’s ear, but just the sound of it was crumbling Sokka’s heart. He felt like he couldn’t breathe. Mindlessly he stood up, walking through the bedroom and out onto the balcony.

The moon was full.

“Yue,” his voice croaked. He wasn’t sure he had drank any water that day.

There was no response. Not even the wind answered him.

“Yue, please,” he said, desperation spilling out of him as he sat down, crumpling in on himself, “I know I couldn’t save you. I know I can’t save him. I know that I am not enough, that I am not an Avatar, that the universe did not choose me for healing, or warmth, or unending support. But please, Yue, do what I cannot.”

He was crying the remaining water out of his body. He wanted to plead his case, telling the spirit that the universe needed Zuko, the next great peace-bringing Firelord, but his logic was stifled by his wailing emotions.

“Please Yue. I love him. I love him so much Yue. I can’t lose someone else. Please.”

***

Sokka awoke to a small shout. He was still lying against the wall of the balcony, but the sun had since come out. It was the first proper sleep that he had had in a while.

When Sokka entered the bedroom, he heard crying. _He’s gone_ Sokka thought, hopeless. He didn’t know how many hours he had cried at the moon without response. Sokka took a deep breath before entering the bathroom, ready to finally say goodbye.

Iroh was leaned over the tub, wrapped tightly around Zuko, sniffling. Sokka knew that Iroh was the only person that could understand the pain he was going through, and watching him cry over Zuko was like looking in a tragic carnival mirror.

“Uncle... Hurts... Please...” came a small groan, and it took a moment for Sokka to realize who had spoken.

“I just missed you so much,” Iroh said, pulling back from the boy. Zuko moved slightly, adjusting himself to sit up straighter. Sokka suddenly felt like all the air had left his body. He gripped the door frame, struggling to keep himself upright.

“Zuko.” The Name barely formed itself on his lips, as if even the word wasn’t real, let alone Zuko moving before him. The color hadn’t returned to his face, and wore a somewhat pained expression, but he was _awake_. They both were.

“Sokka, I—“

He didn’t get to finish his sentences. Sokka had managed to push himself off the door way, propelling himself into the tub where he, sipping wet, began peppering kisses all over Zuko’s face.

“Thank you, thank you, thank you,” he mumbled in between the contact. It felt like Zuko was starting to warm up underneath him, like Sokka was kissing parts of his life back into him.

“I worried you,” Zuko said, frowning, “I’m so so sorry.”

“It’s ok. I love you. I love you Zuko. You’re ok.” Sokka couldn’t stop the mumblings that came out of his mouth, assuring himself more than Zuko that things would be all right now.

Katara assures them that Zuko would still need more healing sessions, but thought it was ok to move him to rest in bed for a little while at least. Sokka helped him out of the tub. Katara and Iroh left them, though Iroh seemed to be forcing himself out of the room. Sokka changed into dry clothes and helped Zuko into a dry robe. Even after such little exertion Zuko was breathing heavy. Sokka pulled back the blankets, helping him scoot into bed.

Toph brought them rice as an excuse to see Zuko. She was beaming, and Sokka actually thought he saw tears forming in the edges of her eyes.

Zuko ate his food quickly at first, scarfing down the first few bites with animalistic hunger, but soon found that solid foods no longer sat in his stomach the way they used to. Zuko managed to lean over the edge of the bed before he puked, bile hitting tile floor.

Zuko was blushing, and his face looked miserable. “I’m so sorry—“

“Don’t worry about it Zuko, just go slower next time,” Sokka said, cleaning it up without a fuss.

“I should be able to take care of myself.”

Sokka crawled into bed beside Zuko, wrapping his arm around him and pulling him in so that Zuko’s he was resting against Sokka’s chest. “None of us can take care of ourselves. We all need each other.”

“Sokka...”

“I’m sorry I wasn’t there to protect you. I should have been there.” Sokka whispered the apology into Zuko’s hairline, punctuating it with a kiss.

“You were, Sokka. You always are.” Zuko took one of Sokka’s hands, placing it gently against Zuko’s own heart. “You reside here too now.”

Sokka thought of Zuko’s dao swords. If you held them together you could mistake them for one sword, and in a way, they were. One without the other was inefficient, pointless. These few weeks had felt like an out of body experience, but he hadn’t realized that that feeling was in part due to his lack of his ability to connect with Zuko as much as his lack of composure in himself.

Sokka smiled for the first time since he arrived at the palace. Gently, he took one of Zuko’s hands and mirrored his actions, placing it on Sokka’s own heart.

***

In a month Katara finally declared Zuko well enough to have his coronation ceremony. Red lanterns were spread out on every surface. Flowers draped themselves across hallways. The whole palace smelled of delicious cuisine being prepared for the big occasion.

Sokka was in Zuko’s room, _their_ room, dragging a comb through Zuko’s hair. He resisted the urge to mess it all up again, the sleek dark strands calling out to his fingers.

“When I was a kid,” Zuko said, “This was all I ever wanted. But now I have you. I have all I ever wanted _and more_.”

“I never knew I wanted this,” Sokka said, “Not any of it. Not adventures across the world, not a new home in a palace, not an incredibly hot and moody boyfriend. I never even thought to imagine that I’d live to see peacetime. But thank the spirits that this is what I got.”

There was a pause as Sokka gently tugged Zuko’s hair up into a top knot, pinning his headpiece in place. He put his hands on his shoulders, grateful to feel that warmth under Zuko’s skin.

“You know,” Zuko said slowly, “I really think I’m more hot than moody these days.”


End file.
